All is Fair: Zayn Malik Fanfiction

Chapter 21

I roll my eyes at the sight of his name on my phone. How is Zayn even texting me?

To Unknown:

Um... how the hell did you get my number?

From Unknown:

So it is you... I just never got around to deleting you from my contacts.

And I am the one who did not move on? I wait the rest of the car ride for him to tell me what he wants. He never does, but there is no way I am going to restart the conversation by texting him back.

Harry and I get home, and I still have not gotten a text from Zayn. We get into pajamas: Harry in sweatpants, a t-shirt and a beanie I made him wear, and me in pajama pants and a tank top. It is not exactly late enough to sleep, so we watch TV in the living room.

Zayn finally texts me.

From Unknown:

So are you going to tell Harry?

To Unknown:

Right now?

"Who's that?" Harry asks. I can see him trying to peek at my phone as I press send. I quickly turn it off.

"No one," I stutter. He slowly moves his eyes back onto the TV. I hope he does not freak out about my rushed response. Because right now I can tell he is wondering why I was so quick to hide my phone. Harry is never openly suspicious with me. I most of the time cannot even tell that he is worried about something until he actually says it. He always just stays quiet about a matter until he brings it up days later with new information I have no clue how he gets. So I figure I need to tell him about Zayn soon, before he goes searching for answers himself to my "suspicious" behavior. But not now.

A few minutes of news plays on the TV until I conclude that this is horribly boring.

Harry kicks my foot. I glare at him, and he smirks. I shrug it off as nothing. If I do not react, he will stop, right? He kicks it again. Nope.

"Stop," I say as seriously as I can. He looks back at me with that menacing, boyish look he always gives me when we are alone, and kicks my foot again. I finally give in and kick him back.

That starts a little footsie war between the two of us, each of us for no reason trying to pin the other's feet down. Most couples would keep this playful, but we take competition too seriously. We get very physical, though we are both careful not to really hurt each other.

The fight calms down a bit when we are both too tired to fight like animals anymore. Harry wins, as usual, and I blame my loss on the size of his feet. For a second I think our adventure is over, but apparently Harry thinks not.

He grabs me by the feet and pulls me so that my body is laying on the couch. He starts to creep over me, inching his way to my face.

"You're not trying anything with me, are you?" I joke, his body now hovering over mine. His airplane necklace that I love hangs from his neck, close to coming in contact with my chest.

He shrugs. I sigh in order to hide a smile that is inevitably going to appear. Harry's face is colored a steel blue by the lights from the television. His dimples and any other indents or wrinkles on his face are deep blue. I look at his eyes. The color of green is paled away, but they still can take me back to so many happy memories with him. There are hardly any truly troubling events that they remind me of. "I really love your eyes," I say to him.

He furrows his brow gently, creating creases on his forehead. "We have the same color eyes."

"Then why do I like yours better?" I start to fumble with the chain of the necklace between us.

"Maybe you just like me better." He dips down to kiss me, trapping my arms between our bodies. My palms rest on his chest until he lifts himself back up. "But that's okay. I like me better too."

I chuckle and playfully attempt to shove him off of me, but he easily resists. "I'm just kidding," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. He cocks his head slightly. His dimpled grin drowns away to something gentler. "I love you."

He lowers his head to kiss my nose. The curls hanging loosely from his beanie brush against my forehead. I close my eyes. He loves me?

The curls stop tickling me, and my eyes flutter open. The soft smile on his face has not left. I search his expressions for sincerity. They give me no reason to doubt his words.

"I love you, too," I whisper back. I remember that just a few days ago I was questioning my feelings towards Harry. But I cannot question anything now. Even if Harry had not had said it first, my feelings would have been clear to me. I would have told him, if not now, then very soon.

I shove softly at his chest. "Now get off of me," I mutter. He laughs out loud and climbs back to his side of the couch. We are physically reserving ourselves, though emotionally I can tell we are at the same place.

I do not know where to look. I try the TV, but how can I focus on that when Harry and I just said that we love each other?

"Jess," Harry chirps. I slowly roll my head into his direction. One of his feet rests on the edge of the coffee table, and his leg shakes furiously from it. His elbows are balanced on the shaking knee, and his chin is held up on his fists. Such an awkward pose. He smiles oddly at me, but the oddness and awkwardness of it all still accurately depicts how I feel on the inside.

'I love you,' he mouths. My breath hitches in my throat, noticeable to Harry. He chuckles at my response. I shift on the couch and keep my mouth shut while he laughs. All of his laughter stop when he realizes that I have not said it back, though. "Well?" he asks with a serious face.

'I love you too,' I mouth back.

"Say it out loud," he instructs.

"You didn't say it out loud," I retort. I really would not mind saying it, but Harry and I kind of like to argue about everything.

"Well I said it first," he says as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Well I felt it first," I respond in the same tone.

He smiles and shakes his head. "No you didn't."

I open my mouth to argue, but I realize I probably have nothing to say that could change his mind about that. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Harry relaxes onto the couch and crosses his arms against his chest. The TV becomes our "focus" again, but I think we both know we are not really paying attention to the television now. I check my phone and see that Zayn had texted me back.

From Unknown:

Why not?

I have no clue what he is talking about now. I read back our last messages. We were texting about telling Harry right now that Zayn and I know each other.

To Unknown:

Just give me some time, I'll tell him soon.